PhantomPhanGurl's Story
by Lady Estelle
Summary: Erik is suddenly confronted with a 21st century phangirl time traveller. With the aid of a devoted Christine and a reluctant Raoul, he seeks to shake off the girl's affections. Features gingerbread houses and magic mirrors.
1. An Intruder

**PhantomPhanGurl's Story **

**Author's Note: **This is my first attempt at a story to poke fun of all phangurls of the world. I have no intention of targeting anyone in particular; this is simply a work of fiction. As always, I would greatly appreciate constructive criticism, so please review! Also, if anyone would be willing to beta future chapters and to give ideas, let me know! I will try to update in as short amounts of time as possible, but with college starting in a few days, I can only cross my fingers.

Of course, I don't own anything or anyone except for PhantomPhanGurl (unfortunately).

_Chapter 1: An Intruder_

Erik was busily penning down his latest melody for his latest work of music in his house on the lake when a figure appeared at the lakeshore. The figure, a young girl of fifteen, came so silently that she seemed to materialize out of thin air. In fact, she did, for her name was PhantomPhanGurl.

Erik hummed out a countermelody to the main theme when he suddenly stopped. The hairs on the back of his neck stood straight up. Somebody was here. Somebody had managed to find his way through the labyrinth of tunnels, escaped the hidden traps, and crossed the lake – without the boat. It could not have been Christine; she would never dare enter the mirror without his guidance.

Slipping a lasso under his cloak, Erik silently approached his front door and lake. The figure had its back to him, but Erik let out a low hiss of surprise. It was a girl! And a scantily dressed one, too, with bare legs and shoulders covered only by two thin straps. Where were her corset and dress?

At least he knew that he was in no immediate danger, so Erik replaced his rope and quickly spun her around and gripped her by her shirtfront.

"What are you doing here?" he barked.

PhantomPhanGurl yelped in surprise, then strangely enough, her expression turned to one of extreme ecstaticism and she let out a squeal.

"gerry!11 like omg its really u omg i cant believe im actually here it was really weird though like i was watching the movie and the next thing i new i was standing at this lake and i recognized the candles and everything but i couldnt remember seeing a house or anything but it looks really pretty and delicious and smells even better-"

Erik whipped his head around to stare dumbly at his house. Or what used to be his house. It was now a cottage made of gingerbread with windowpanes of pink icing and gumdrops.

"WHAT happened to my house!" he roared, throwing the babbling girl down.

"well i was just thinking of what a kewl place to have a gingerbread house lik in the fairytales and then it just appeared so i guess whatever i think of in my mind comes true omg that is so kewl-"

Erik was dumbfounded. The girl apparently had no fear for him, nor did she question his mask or his subterranean abode. She was obviously mad, for she kept sighing and calling him "Gerry." He began to back against the wall as she fawned over him, batting her gooey eyelashes and cooing.

"oh gerry u have no idea how ive alwayz dreamt of this moment ever since i saw u in the movie especially when u sang and ur such a great singer and u'll look even hotter than now with that shirt off..."

Erik suddenly felt a cool breeze. Looking down, he found that his clothing was lying in a heap next to his feet and that he was clad only in his underpants. He gave out an enraged yell.

"What did you do to my clothes!"

The crazed PhantomPhanGurl began to titter, then giggle, then howl with laughter.

"HAHAHAHAH omg that is like sooooo funny i just imagined u in ur underwear and then all ur clothes went away omg im gonna just DIE from lookin at that hot bod!"

Desperately attempting to shove his legs back into his pants, Erik managed to fit one leg in before tripping on the entangled material and falling flat on his face. He almost ripped his pants in frustration as he grunted, "Mademoiselle, I cannot possibly understand a word you're saying."

"what are u talkin about i always talk this way its the way all of us phangurls talk especially in online msgs and and stuf. newayz how totally hot is this i have to tell IHeartErik and GerryzLuver about this theyll be lik soooo jealous when i tell them what an incredible hottie you are in person even with the mask it just adds 2 ur mystery haha lol 'that man and mystery were both in youuuuuuu..."

Clapping both hands around his ears, Erik let out an anguished wail of exasperation as PhantomPhanGurl prattled on and on about the "hotness factors" of some men named Gerald Butler and Patrick Wilson. He considered throwing her into the lake to end his misery, but he decided that he needed to keep her long enough to get his old house back instead of that gingerbread hut.

"They never stop talking, don't they?" a chipmunk voice said near Erik's left ear.

Erik gave a violent jump. He tore a tormented gaze away from PhantomPhanGurl, who had now proceeded to skip over to his gingerbread house and to lick the windowpanes.

A tiny masked man dressed in a white suit and cloak was perched on his left shoulder. What was even stranger was the fact that the little man looked exactly like Erik.

"And just who are you?" Erik growled.

"I am your Shoulder Angel. I am the embodiment of everything that is good inside of you. Think of me as your personal Jiminy Cricket."

Erik threw up his hands in disgust.

"I don't give a cat's arse who you are. Where did this girl come from, and how do I get rid of her? And what will become of my house!"

The Shoulder Angel glanced over at PhantomPhanGurl, who had begun to chew holes through the front door. He gave a high-pitched chuckle.

"You don't have much time to get dispose of her before she eats through your house like a colony of termites. Girls her age can work through entire cities of cookies in less than a day. I suggest you tie her up before she discovers your chocolate organ."

Erik turned five shades paler before leaping towards the Jaws of Death, lasso in hand.


	2. An Explanation

Chapter 2: An Explanation

"There. At least my organ is safe now."

Erik stepped back to smugly admire his handiwork. PhantomPhanGurl was bound securely by layers of rope that restrained even the smallest movement. However, her reaction to being immobilized like a rodeo cow was far from the usual blubbering.

"Ooooh how totally kewl is this, im actually touching one of gerry's ropes, well it is a liltite but that chocolate piano thingy looked too good to i just had to taste it.."

Nearing the end of his limits, Erik placed his face within inches of hers and hissed, eyes blazing, "For the last time, my name is Erik, and if you don't have the decency to stay silent for even a second, I will be more than happy to reconsider using my rope for more sinister purposes."

PhantomPhanGurl let out a dreamy sigh before finally falling into a silent reverie, her doe eyes going blank as she began to plan her future as the next Mrs. Gerry Butler.

"You would think she would have enough wits about her to will the ropes into spaghetti or something," commented the Shoulder Angel wryly.

"Please, don't get her started again or I'll have to resort to rendering the girl unconscious," groaned Erik, "Besides, she believes that the mere thought of being tied up with one of my ropes is rather phascina – I mean, fascinating."

The Shoulder Angel let out a dry laugh, "As long as there is a Phantom, there will always be a phan."

"A fan?"

"Yes, Erik. _Phan_. You see, the world where this _fille_ is from, where young girls like her are only too common, devoted female admirers are known collectively as phangirls. They congregate in online fan fiction communitites and forums with such pseudonyms as 'AngelicPhantomess' or 'ErikzBellaDiva'-"

"Or 'IHeartErik' and 'GerryzLuver'" muttered Erik.

"Precisely. But what's in a name anyway," the Shoulder Angel joked as he grew more animated, pacing from shoulder to shoulder, occasionally clambering over Erik's head. He continued, "So each one of these lovesick phangirls eventually imagines herself with her destined true love, who is embodied by the tall, dark, and sexy 'Gerik,' the name that you are often referred by. The whole idea of the underground lake with a reclusive genius brings out the wild side in these phangirls, and they begin to see themselves sharing your world. And sometimes the power of the imagination is so great that it knows no bounds, whether they be time or worlds. We have a perfect example right here."

"All right, then tell me – do they all talk the same way as she does? With all of the atrocious –" Erik grimaced, "all the atrocious 'omg this is so kewl' sayings?" his voice sounded angelic even when imitating a squealing piglet.

The Shoulder Angel let out a resigned sigh and sat back down on his favorite shoulder.

"Sadly, most of the do, especially the younger ones in their early teens who have not fully matured." He shook his head over the thought of giggly txt msgs. "In such an unrestrictive setting as a public online forum, many phangirls have fallen prey to sheer carelessness and laziness. They abuse the simple mechanics of punctuation and spelling to a state of indecency. They have the gall to call it a language, or 'slang' if you will, but this is nothing short of profanity!"

"Uh, I would prefer that you take out your anger on something other than my ear, Shoulder Angel." Erik pried the Shoulder Angel's death grip off his left ear, which began to redden immediately.

"My apologies, Monsieur."

Rubbing his ear, Erik stole another glance at PhantomPhanGurl, who had fallen asleep dreaming of how delicious an Erik-flavored ice cream would taste.

"How is it that you know so much about these phangirls despite the fact that I know nothing of them, yet we are one and the same?"

The Shoulder Angel crossed and uncrossed his legs impatiently.

"How would I know?" he huffed, "I would be more concerned with disposing of that bothersome girl before she completely undresses you with a snap of her fingers just as Christine happens to walk in!"

"Christine would never dare enter here alone!" retorted Erik. His expression changed to one of distress. "Oh, Christine," he wailed, "How can I see or even _hear_ her with that girl and her incessant prattling? I'm beginning to hear phanspeak inside my head!"

"Easy," chirped the Shoulder Angel, "All you have to do is to remove any reason for that young girl's wanting to stay here."

Erik stared stupidly. "With me?"

"Yes, Erik. You have to make yourself so repulsive and unbearable in her eyes that she would rather eat guano before spending any time with you."

Erik rubbed his hands together. "That should not be too difficult. I'm the Phantom, the disfigured musical genius who lurks in the catacombs, the Opera Ghost!"

"May I suggest otherwise," spoke up another, if deeper, chipmunk voice, this time by Erik's right ear.

Another Shoulder Angel sat there, this time dressed from head to toe in red.

"Do you forget that she is a phangirl?" the tiny figure said pointedly, "One who is infatuated with the idea of a misunderstood, dark, and sinister being such as yourself?"

"And you are?" snapped Erik.

"I am your Shoulder Demon. I represent your dark, tormented, vengeful side." The little man reached out a button-sized hand. "Allow me to provide you with some _very_ effective ways to rid all of us of this silly phangirl."


	3. A Second Opinion

_Chapter 3: A Second Opinion_

Erik stared incredulously at his Shoulder Demon's outstretched hand.

"My Shoulder Demon? Don't tell me there are more of you flying above my head."

"You do realize that you possess only two shoulders," stated the Shoulder Angel, "Therefore there is no possibility that there are more of us around, unless your name is Quasimodo."

"And you do realize that the only thing preventing me from throwing your smart little arse into that phangirl's eager little hands is the fact that you may know some things that may prove quite useful to me!" Erik shot back. Really, he didn't even know that his so-called "good side" turned out to be so irritating.

"Oh, I believe that I would be more of use to you and your purposes than that annoying Shoulder Angel of yours," purred the Shoulder Demon, pulling Erik's right ear, "After all, Erik, you and I are much more alike. We embrace darkness and night. Listen to _me_."

Erik thought of the ridiculous situation that he was in. There he was, standing by his half-eaten gingerbread house with a snoring phangirl roped up near the lake, with two miniature Eriks standing on each shoulder, fighting for his approval. He ached for the consolation and refuge of his music. He groaned inwardly, knowing that it would never happen with a sticky chocolate organ.

"Erik," said the Shoulder Demon, with a voice as smooth as silk, "Think about it! This problematic phangirl happens to magically drop into your lair, and what better opportunity to test out your traps! She is your own personal guinea pig!"

"Ignore that silly red boy with the tail," cut in the Shoulder Angel, "Erik, all you have to do is make yourself seem revolting to her and she'll leave of her own accord! There is no need for violence!"

"Use your torture chamber on her!" the Shoulder Demon said gleefully.

The Shoulder Angel glared at him, "Use body odor to repel her!"

"Throw her to the sirens!"

"Dress like a hick!"

"Kick her through the trapdoors!"

"Eat like a pig!"

"Punjab her!"

"_Silence_!" Erik roared. The two Shoulder Eriks glowered at each other.

Grabbing a little Erik in each hand, Erik held them in front of his face, gritting his teeth, "I refuse to use force on an innocent girl, regardless of how much hell she may put me through. I also refuse to lower myself any further in disgrace. Despite my horrific face, Shoulder Angel, you of all people should know that I keep only the highest standards for my appearance!"

Erik then chuckled wryly at his current state of affairs.

"Who would have thought that I would come to this, that I would be drawn in a battle between my inner demon and inner conscience? Dark against light, evil against good?" He loosened his grip and replaced both little Eriks to their original positions.

"I am at a loss," he stated simply, "I need my house and my organ back, which I cannot get without the harebrained phangirl, who cannot speak a proper sentence without throwing herself onto me!"

"Erik..."

"What is it?" he snapped.

The two miniature Eriks stared vacantly at him and each other. "It wasn't us," replied the Shoulder Angel.

"Erik..."

His trained ears guided his head toward his gingerbread house. "Don't tell me my house is speaking to me."

"Come inside..."

Slowly, Erik picked his way through the crumbs and the half-eaten door with a disgusted expression on his face. Inside, he could see no one save for his furniture. His chocolate, caramel-and-strawberry encrusted furniture.

"Over here," the voice called.

Erik turned around to glance behind him to face a wall hanging. He gingerly pushed aside the fabric to reveal the mirror that he had hidden behind the drape. Instead of his own reflection, a face appeared inside the mirror.

"Hello, Erik," the mirror spoke, "I am your Magic Mirror, and I know exactly how to make PhantomPhanGurl leave and to restore everything as it once was before her appearance."

* * *

A/N: As always, I would greatly appreciate reviews on anything (style, content, plot, character...). PhantomPhanGurl will wake up soon, I promise! Thanks for reading! 


	4. A Solution

_Chapter 4: A Solution_

* * *

_I am losing my mind_, Erik thought, _Magic Mirrors?_

"You may find this suggestion abominable, Erik, but I cannot tell a lie and it is the only way to get rid of PhantomPhanGurl," said the Magic Mirror, "You must seek the aid of the Vicomte and Vicomtesse de Chagny, formerly known as Mademoiselle Christine Daae."

"_What_!" burst out Erik, thrusting his face right up to the Mirror, "I would rather be thrown into a bottomless pit of phangirls than to ask that sniveling _boy_ for any help!"

"Yes, but once I tell you the part that Mlle Daae must play, you might reconsi-"

"Never! He can be the king of France for all I care, but I will not lose my dignity once more to that _fop_!"

Erik felt a slight tug, one on each ear, followed by an anxious whisper from one of the Shoulder Eriks, "Erik, she's waking up! And the ropes have turned to flower garlands!"

"Who would have thought that she actually possessed enough brainpower to think of that," muttered the other Shoulder Erik.

Erik looked frantically from one shoulder to another, then to his feet, cursing the fact that he was not standing on a trapdoor to open and to swallow him. Both the Shoulder Angel and Shoulder Demon gave him apologetic grins before disappearing in two puffs of smoke. He whipped his head around to gauge the distance between the girl and himself. All rational thought left him as he figured that perhaps if he punjabbed her quickly enough, she wouldn't have time to think...

Before he could react, PhantomPhanGurl threw her arms around him, cooing maniacally, "ohhhh screamz wildly gerry i cant believe im lik still here i thot it wuz all a dream or sumthin b4 i fell asleep, anywayz i hav lik all these songz in my head haha lol itz exactly lik that line 'in sleep he sang to me, in dreamz he came', only now itz TOTALLY lik i change the 'he' to 'u' cuz ur rite here beside me LOL 'to hold me and to hide me'"

"Mademoiselle, please! I can't-" Erik fell over with the phangirl on top of him, her arms tighter than an anaconda. He managed to free an arm and started to drag himself across the floor of the house toward a now-chocolate cabinet with PhantomPhanGurl in tow. He needed something to suppress the raving girl.

"omg gerry (btw i lik totally forgot ur real name, to me ur only the phantom but dats ok) do u wanna hear me sing im lik so much better than christine or emmy or even meg and ive been singin nuttin but phantom songz ever since i saw the movie..."

He was ten feet away from the cabinet. Five feet. Two feet.

"think of me, think of me fondly when weve said GOOOOOOODbyyyyyyyeeeee..."

Erik reached out his arm and slowly, painfully pulled out the bottom drawer. He had never heard such horrendous screaming in his life. La Carlotta suddenly sounded like a nightingale compared to her.

"aaaaaaangel of muuuuuuusic, guide and guardian, who is this grrrrrr8 tutor, oh wait i screwed up lemme try again..."

He groped around inside, knowing each bottle by touch. He found the one that he was looking for.

"aaaaaaangel my soul wuz weak, forgive meeeeeeeee..."

Holding his breath, Erik tore off the cork cap with his teeth, praying that the contents themselves have not been turned to strawberry syrup.

"eeeeennnnnter at last, maaaaaaaast –"

With a slight whiff, PhantomPhanGurl went limp as a result of the still-potent chloroform that Erik had waved under her nose. Erik carefully replaced the cork top and let out his breath. He stood up, leaving the phangirl in a heap at his feet. "That should keep you out for a few more hours," he muttered disdainfully. Then he felt like sobbing for what he was about to say.

"Magic Mirror," he forced out the words through gritted teeth, "Tell me what I must do. I cannot bear any more of this lunacy! What can-" he swallowed, "_Le Vicomte_ and Christine do?"

"Before I tell you, if you would be so kind Monsieur, could you please clean that little spot on the corner for me? It has been bothering me for quite some time now."

Erik obliged while muttering something about the low cost of replacing smashed mirrors these days.

"Thank you. You see, Monsieur, the plan is relatively simple. Young girls at PhantomPhanGurl's age are easily ruled by their emotions, and tend to be extremely fickle when it comes to men. That is your hope. The plan will have two aspects. You must pretend to be courting Mlle Daae, so that you are unavailable to see any other women. On the other hand, le Vicomte de Chagny must somehow grasp her attention so that she eventually sees only him; in other words, he must become her new love interest. I'm sure that would not be too difficult with his looking like the way he does..."

"I do not need to be reminded of that boy's perfectly groomed eyebrows and trimmed nose hairs, thank you," snapped Erik.

"If you have trouble convincing the two about their usefulness in the plan, bring them to me," added the Mirror, "After all, who can doubt a Magic Mirror's word?"

"I should have no problem in convincing Christine," mused Erik, "As for the boy..."

His golden eyes glinted as he made sure his rope was secure under his cloak, "A few minutes hanging by his feet over the piranhas in my lake should be enough to convince him."


End file.
